The Virgin and the Kingpin

by Allyson Lindt

  He turned to look at her. He raised one brow as he dragged his gaze up her body, and her skin heated to scorching. “Spending more time with you would be a nice side-effect.”

  “What?” she asked when she realized he wasn’t looking away.

  “I’m imagining what is or isn’t underneath that shirt. Wondering what it would take to get you out of it, so I can find out.”

  She gave him a timid smile, unsure how to respond.

  “What?” He mimicked her earlier question.

  “I don’t know if you’re teasing or serious.”

  “I’m completely serious.” He knotted his fingers in her hair, holding her head captive. “Everything’s that happened tonight has me thinking... I used to be fearless.”

  “Used to be?” She forced herself to speak, despite the way his intense gaze drilled into her.

  He let out a strained chuckle. “You heard me. Believe it or not, I’m a do no harm kind of guy. After the accident all those years ago, and the events leading up to it... I’d walked away from Lucas and pissed off Mercy to the point we weren’t speaking, because of what I wanted. I swung in the opposite direction after that. Not on purpose; it’s just the way things happened.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “I kept my distance from Lucas under the pretense of not ruining his life, but it was so I didn’t have to deal with what I might do wrong if I stuck around. In the end, it didn’t matter. He’s caught up in a cycle of self-loathing regardless. I’m not saying he’d be better or worse if I stuck around, but at least the situation would have been honest from the start.”

  Susan wasn’t sure what to say. She agreed but didn’t think it was polite to throw that back in his face with took you long enough. She settled for nodding.

  “Now that I know he’s going to be all right, this whole realization thing is taking off on a tangent.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “You look amazing, like you always do. Fresh out of the shower, covered in mud, made up for dinner with your friends—it doesn’t matter. I adore you, Suzie-Q. And—fuck—I’m tired of fighting this. I don’t want to lose out on whatever potential lies between us. I desperately want to strip you out of those clothes.”

  She didn’t know if it was the tension talking, or if his words meant more. She didn’t care. “Me too.”

  He brushed his lips over hers, and a pleasant shiver ran down her spine. When he tightened his grip, yanking back her head, she gasped. He muffled the sound, kissing her hard, gliding his tongue over her bottom lip, then further into her mouth, to dance and tease.

  She didn’t know how it was possible, but each time he kissed her was more intense than the last. She dug her fingers into his chest, sinking into every new sensation. The scent of his body wash. The hint of toothpaste. The hammering of his heart against her hand, beating as hard as hers. No one would interrupt them this time.

  The realization tied her gut in knots, and her anticipation spiked.

  “Jesus, the things you do to me.” His lips hummed against her skin, as he traced them down her neck. “And you don’t realize it.” He trailed his palm along her arm to her hand, then moved both down his stomach. He wrapped her fingers around the bulge in his jeans, groaning when she stroked through denim. “I fantasize about your mouth wrapped around my cock.” He caught her earlobe between his teeth, tugging before he let go. “What it’ll feel like to bury my dick inside you. I can’t get you out of my fucking head.”

  At least she wasn’t the only one. Each time she dragged a finger along his erection, he jerked into her hand. He was big. Was that normal? “What if it doesn’t fit?” She flushed, as the question slipped out.

  He licked along the edge of her ear, his whisper as much breath as voice. “I promise you’ll enjoy every minute of this, even when there’s a little pain.”

  That sounded far more enticing than she’d expect. “It’s a promise, huh? Be careful. You’ll give me high expectations.”

  “Good.” He raked his nails down her back, before pulling the shirt over her head. He leaned away to look her over and smirked. The way he looked at her made need clench in her belly and focus between her legs, throbbing and damp. “Pink. Noted.”

  “What is?”

  “Your nipples. It’s tough to daydream about doing this, when I can’t picture them.”

  Before she could ask doing what, he lowered his head and licked one hardened nub. The coarse texture of his tongue over the sensitive skin drew a sigh. That was much more intense than her own fingers. When he wrapped his lips—warm and firm—around the area and scraped his teeth along the skin, her hips bucked.

  His laugh murmured over her body. “Let’s see what other buttons you have.” He alternated his attentions between her breasts, sucking one while he pinched and pulled at the other. Her head grew light from the gasps and continuous pleasure, and she lost track of where one lick stopped and the next tweak started.

  He moved his mouth back to hers, and the cool air danced over the dampness on her chest. His nails scraped along her hips when he hooked his thumbs in the elastic of her shorts. It only took a nudge, to send the clothing sliding to the ground.

  He looked her over again. The groan that tore from his throat rolled over her and filled her floaty thoughts with promises of him doing things to her she couldn’t imagine. “Jesus Christ. You’re bald.” He was focused on her crotch.

  “It’s a profile thing.”

  He joined her again, one hand at her back and the other dancing along her skin, between her navel and her mound. “You don’t mean like a website profile.”

  She liked having this effect on him. The throaty sounds he made. The way his voice dropped every time he looked at her. “I don’t wear panties under my bodysuit when I dance. The goal is minimal lines disrupting my profile.”

  “Fuck.” He skated his fingers lower, along the edges of her thighs, and her core ached for that touch. “If you were anyone else in the entire fucking world, you’d be my sites’ hottest starlet.”

  “But because I’m me?” An irrational fear poked up its head, asking if she wanted to know the answer.

  He nudged her back, to sit on the bed. “You’re all mine.” As he lowered himself, he pushed her to lie back, then kissed along her chest, down her stomach, and over the top of her legs. He nudged her thighs apart and kissed up the inside of one, then down the other, never touching the wetness between. She squirmed under the attention, gripping the comforter to keep her hands from acting on their own. She ached to slide her fingers down there if he wouldn’t. But the agony of anticipation was delicious.

  He traced her lower lips with a fingertip, sliding easily over smooth, slick skin, and a new level of enjoyment jolted through her. When he followed the same path with his tongue, she gasped, and her butt rose several inches to get closer.

  “You like that?” His breath was tantalizing against her skin.

  She managed to force a mhm through her whimper.

  “You taste amazing.” He followed her folds, licking up. When he wrapped his lips around her aching button, she cried out and ground into his face. The first shudder of climax rolled through her, but flattened out when he eased up the pressure. For several moments, he sucked until he pushed her to the edge, then softened his touch. She squirmed under the ministrations, licking her lips to find moisture, unable to think about anything but the face buried between her legs.

  He carried her to the brink again, but this time didn’t back off. Orgasm gripped her, crashing over her body, flowing through her arms, and sapping the strength from her legs. She jerked away from his touch when it became too much. He moved his mouth back to hers, dancing and splaying his fingers over the outside edges of her mound.

  She dove into the kiss. She’d tasted herself before, on her own fingers. It was different on someone else’s lips. Its own kind of high. As the rush started to ebb, she felt a nudge at her opening, and before she could process it, a sharp sting snapped between her legs. His finger was dee
per insider her than she'd ever dared go with her vibrator. He slid it out and in again, and ecstasy mingled with the pain.

  “Are you okay?” He searched her eyes.

  She bit her bottom lip. “I think you broke something.”

  “That was the point. Now”—he kissed along the edge of her ear, voice a whisper—“I fuck you until you’re sore and hoarse.”

  A chill of anticipation raced through her, and she nodded.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Andrew was barely aware of stripping off his jeans then fumbling to grab a condom from the wallet he’d left on the nightstand. He unwrapped the rubber and rolled it on, mostly thanks to muscle memory. Susan lay in the middle of the bed, looking better than any fantasy, blue eyes watching his every move.

  He wedged her legs apart with his knee and rested his hands on the mattress on either side of her head. She traced her palms up his arms, and he realized he was shaking. Impatience was a bitch. He ducked his head to kiss her again, fueling a new spark of desire. He knelt upright, then used one hand to guide his cock into her.

  She winced when he nudged the head in.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  She nodded. “Keep going.”

  It took the last of his restraint to ease in, filling her up, sliding inside her tight, wet hole. The friction and the way her muscles twitched around him threatened to make him come. He pumped at a slow pace, measuring her responses, and letting her moans and soft cries force every other thought out of his head.

  As she relaxed under him, pushing into his pelvis and matching his rhythm, he picked up speed. When he pinned her knees to her chest, she shifted her ass. She gasped as he struck inside her deep and hard. Her breath came in short bursts, then pants, as he slammed against her. He couldn’t hold back any more. Each new thrust traveled from his dick and ran through his body, stealing reason and leaving need in its place.

  He couldn’t take his eyes off Susan. How her face screwed up in pleasure. The winces that accompanied each groan. The flutter of her eyelids, like she couldn’t decide if she wanted to watch or sink into her other senses. Her pussy tightened, squeezing his shaft. He let go of one leg, to lean forward and roll a nipple between his fingers. To kiss her and steal her soft cries.

  He wanted a witty comment, but all he could find was, “Fuck. You feel incredible.”

  She managed a smile. “Better than you know.”

  He massaged her breast and pinched the swollen nub, hammering inside her at the same time. His balls tightened, but he wasn’t ready to let go yet. Dots swam in front of his eyes. She was close; he could tell from the way she milked him. He moved his mouth to her neck and sucked the tender flesh hard, to mark her.

  She dug her fingers into his arms and arched her back, a scream tearing from her throat when orgasm hit her. The pressure around his cock grew, tightening and releasing in spasms, pushing him past the edge of control. He squeezed his eyes shut, and a million stars danced behind the lids when he came. He couldn’t ease up yet. Not when she continued to grind against him. Not with the intense pleasure flowing through him.

  The edge faded from his climax, and he slowed reluctantly and out of necessity, until he stopped.

  He forced his eyes open, to see her watching him, a mischievous smirk on her full lips. “So that’s sex, huh?” Her question rasped out.

  “Those are the basics.” He eased out slowly, letting go of her other leg Before he leaned in for another kiss. Her chest heaved and a faint shine of sweat glowed across her face and body. Gorgeous.

  “That was a little more than basic. I know. I’ve seen internet porn.”

  “Have you?” He stripped off the condom and wrapped it in a tissue so he could throw it out. “I’d like to watch that.”

  “The porn? I think you’ve already seen it.”

  “No. I’d like to watch you watching.”

  Her flushed cheeks darkened further. “There’s always next time.”

  He stood, and wobbled for a minute before catching his balance. “Wait right here.” A moment later, he returned with water for her then dropped onto the bed next to her, legs refusing to support his weight any longer.

  He lay on his side and patted the mattress. “Sleepy yet?”

  “No.” She curled up next to him and rested her forehead against his chest. “Thank you.”

  He didn’t think anyone had ever thanked him for sex and didn’t know what the appropriate reply was. He settled for draping an arm over her and planting a kiss on the top of her head.

  Within a few minutes, her breathing was slow and steady, and she relaxed limply in his arms. Asleep. With the haze of lust fading, the real world filtered back in, along with his own words from so many years ago—courtesy of a recent reminder. Monogamy is fine for romantics and sheep, but I’m never tying myself to only one person. How long until he had to break Susan’s heart? “I’m sorry,” he whispered in the quiet room.

  “Me too.” She snuggled closer.

  The simple reply left a sharp jabbing pain in his chest. So much for her being asleep.

  ANDREW AND SUSAN MADE it back to the hospital with breakfast for Kandace. Lucas complained when he didn’t get any. That was a good sign.

  Susan spent half of the day flushed from memories of the night before. The light throb between her legs was a pleasant reminder. Did what happened show? She swore everyone was watching her. Which was ridiculous. They were focused on Lucas, as they should be. But wow. When could she and Andrew do that again?

  The problem with that question was the one it led to. What did his muttered apology mean? She didn’t think she was supposed to hear it, and now she was fully awake, it seemed more like a product of her imagination than reality. That didn’t sate the dread that unfurled inside her every time she thought about it.

  Lucas bounced back quickly, now that he was awake. By noon, the nurses let him have Jell-O and soda. The doctor released him that evening, as long as he promised to take it easy on the food for a couple of days, while his stomach recovered. The final diagnosis was that he didn’t taken enough pills to do internal damage. They took him out for so long because of his size and the alcohol he mixed them with.

  Susan liked seeing the family happy. Andrew seemed restrained, but he looked so much lighter than twenty-four hours ago.

  They got back to Kandace’s and got Lucas settled. He needed rest. Kandace and Andrew promised to talk to him after he recovered a little more, about how to make sure Lucas stayed happy and sane. Kandace also swore he wouldn’t have to see anyone else until they figured out the details. That seemed to sate the boy, and he passed out in his own bed a short while later.

  Andrew ordered Kandace to get some sleep. She only protested for a moment before yielding. Susan and Andrew were left alone in the living room.

  Andrew handed her his phone. “Do you want to text Mercy? Let her know you’re okay?”

  She took the device. Typing in his passcode made her smile. The sense of humor of a five-year-old sometimes. She adored it. A twinge ghosted through her when she saw the last conversation he’d had with Mercy. The note that Susan was in his room. The deception.

  She pushed aside the bad memory. That was in the past. They’d moved on. She sent Mercy a quick note. Hey. It’s Susan. Checking in. Everyone’s all right, including me.

  A response came seconds later. Glad to hear it. Thanks for letting me know. Talk soon.

  She smiled, and out of habit, hit the back button to take her to the main text screen. A flash of color caught her eye, and it took her a minute to process it was a photo. “What’s this?” A voice in her head screamed not to click—that she was invading his privacy—but her thumb swiped the conversation open.

  “What’s what? Oh. Fuck.” Andrew’s exclamation echoed the one in her head, as she stared at a selfie of Rissa. Or rather, of Rissa’s boobs.

  This wasn’t what made Susan’s brain grind to a screeching halt. It was the date it was sent and Andrew’s reply. I wouldn’t m
ind you riding me.

  Now Susan knew why she’ woke up alone the morning after she threw herself at him. Because if she were anyone but her, he’d fuck the hell out of her. Wasn’t that how he phrased it? She looked up, to see him frowning.

  She didn’t have a right to be mad. They weren’t dating, and he’d never made a secret of that. “Was she fun?” Susan forced herself to sound cheerful. The crack in her words told her she failed.

  “She was forward.”

  It wasn’t a real answer. Was that what he’d tell people about Susan? Or would it be a generic kind of she was a challenge? Would she get that much credit in one of his stories? The thought gnawed at her. It wasn’t that she was angry, but she was hurt in a way she didn’t like and didn’t feel she had a right to be. “I’m glad you got to hook up.”

  “Me too.” He wouldn’t meet her gaze, and his trademark bravado was missing from his voice. He’d lied to Mercy about sleeping with Susan. It was possible he was covering up the truth about Rissa.

  Realization spread through Susan. It wasn’t that she minded who he’d been with in the past. She was terrified of what it meant for last night. She didn’t want to ask, but she had to have it defined. It felt special, but that was her assumption. “Is that what I was last night? A hookup?”

  “Suzie-Q...” He trailed off.

  “I’m not upset.” She managed to sound normal. “I mean, in a way, my feelings are hurt, but I never had any illusions about how inexperienced I am compared to you. I know who you are. Seems like now is a good time to discuss it, so we’re on the same page.” Which was ridiculous. She’d already built up a relationship for her and Andrew, weaving the idea until it was part of her reality. She tried to deny it, but with the possibility of losing him staring her down, she had to admit she was hooked.

  “I’ve told you before, I’m not boyfriend material. Any past disclaimers apply. Last night was really good, but that’s all it was.” He rubbed the back of his neck and studied the ceiling. “I consider you a good friend.” He looked at her. “That doesn’t have to change unless you want it to.”